


Coffee & Strudel

by GoodCompany (orphan_account)



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coffee Shops, M/M, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 09:53:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19082626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/GoodCompany
Summary: He’s 22 years old and still hasn’t tasted chocolate or mango, or anything at all. He eats to sustain his life but has no concept of enjoying his food. He drinks water because drinking fruit juices or lemonade seems pointless to him when he can’t taste them. He drinks coffee for the caffeine alone not because he enjoys it.Brian’s heard that strawberries taste the sweetest in the summer and that pumpkin is best in the autumn, but it means nothing to him yet. He doesn’t know the bitterness of lemon or the sharpness of marmalade. Yet.





	Coffee & Strudel

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one shot but it was taking far too long to write so I decided to chop it in 2 and see if you like it. 
> 
> I hope you do. 
> 
> Enjoy my ramblings.

He’s 22 years old and still hasn’t tasted chocolate or mango, or anything at all. He eats to sustain his life but has no concept of enjoying his food. He drinks water because drinking fruit juices or lemonade seems pointless to him when he can’t taste them. He drinks coffee for the caffeine alone not because he enjoys it. 

Brian’s heard that strawberries taste the sweetest in the summer and that pumpkin is best in the autumn, but it means nothing to him yet. He doesn’t know the bitterness of lemon or the sharpness of marmalade. Yet.

He longs for the day when his taste buds burst into life, he yearns to enjoy a glass of wine for the smoothness and not just the buzz he gets after a few glasse . He can’t wait to enjoy spices and sugar, salty and creamy, and tartness and smokiness. 

He can sense the textures of things but doesn’t fully understand them. He knows he likes his fried eggs flipped over for a few seconds so that the white is more solidified and not slimy, but he’s not overly sure why. He can’t pinpoint it fully. He also knows that he prefers his apples with a crunch, thinks maybe they’ll be a bit sharper in taste but he’s just not sure. He can’t wait to find out. 

His breakfasts of poached egg and toast or porridge are hunger satisfying only and his coffee aids his alertness. But he doesn’t enjoy them, they’re just a necessity for him.

Coffee especially. His phd is slowly killing him. There’s late nights and early mornings, days stretching for hours on end of nothing but walking to university and sitting in lectures, and spending the rest in the library researching and writing and more researching. 

He reaches for a coffee with alarming regularity and he’s relatively sure that it’s not really doing him any favours. When he’s awake he’s usually fairly organised and methodical in what he does, the coffee sometimes helps to focus that in his work. What it doesn’t help is sleep. He doesn’t sleep much at all anyway and when he does, it’s restless and filled with dreams that wake him every hour, but the coffee just makes it worse. 

He drops his pen onto the desk and stretches out the cramp that has gripped his right hand, feeling the tendons pop slightly as they move under his skin. He glances around him and sees that he’s pretty much alone, the only other person in sight is the librarian who’s concentrating hard on what appears to be a crossword. His eyes scan the clock high on the wall above the librarian and he sees that it’s well past 11pm, probably time to head home and catch whatever sleep that he can. 

He hastily grabs his stuff and shoves it into his satchel, shutting it haphazardly as he stands clumsily. He closes his hand around the book he needs and heads over to the desk to check out.

“You’re in late again Brian.” Mr Moore smiles, looking up at him from the desk.

“Oh, you know me,” Brian shrugs noncommittally, “burning the candle in search of that perfect thesis.” 

Mr Moore nods, “been there done that, but look where mine got me. Due in 2 weeks.” He hands the book back to Brian with another smile and pauses for a brief second before drifting back to his crossword.

Brian adds the book to the rest of his things and turns away to leave. “Interstellar.” He throws over his shoulder gaining a quiet ‘huh?’ from the librarian. “4 across, 12 letters, Puts down sketch by retiring artist among the stars. Interstellar. Goodnight Mr Moore.”

“Goodnight Brian, and thanks.”

He barely sleeps that night, mind on interplanetary dust, planets and everything in between. He crawls out from his bed sometime around 5am and quietly pads into the kitchen to find some form of food and flick the kettle on for the first coffee of the day.

When it’s all ready he retreats to the lounge, perching carefully on the small armchair, placing the mug on the table and his plate of toast on the arm of the chair, and folds his legs underneath him as best he can given the space.

He’s no idea how much time passes by, all he knows is that he’s covered in crumbs, the remnants of his coffee has gone cold and the sun is peeking through the dark curtains, trying to seep into the room and brighten up Brian’s field of view. Which he doesn’t want. It means another day of furious research, coffee and not much else.

He sighs. 

“Have you thought about sleeping tablets Bri?”

He breaks from his distrait and glances up, eyes focusing slowly on the dark shock of hair that frames Freddie’s face. “Pharmaceuticals, you know.” Is all he offers up.

“Sleep, you know.” Freddie says quietly, brushing a hand through his hair slowly. “I worry about you is all.” He adds softly, a pleading look in his eyes.

Brian smiles, “I know, thank you Fred, but I’m fine honestly.” 

“You’re not, and we both know it.” Freddie leans over and twists a look of Brian’s hair through his fingers. “You need to look after yourself. All this coffee and no sleep is damaging you.”

“My thesis is what’s damaging me.”

Freddie sighs and presses a soft kiss to Brian’s forehead. It feels a lot like defeat to Brian and he wants to smile but he can’t because he knows that Freddie is absolutely correct. 

“If you must drink that awful stuff I hear there’s a new shop opening up today near campus. You may find some awfully cute new boys to look instead of your thesis and that awful scrawl you call handwriting.” Freddie mutters as he potters around the kitchen softly. “Who knows, one of them could be your soulmate.”

“The fact that you think I’ll meet my soulmate in a uni cafe is cute really.” Brian huffs.

“Well, it’s your best option currently, you don’t do anything but study.”

“I’m not desperate to find my soulmate yet Fred, it’s not the be all and end all you know.”

“Let’s see if you think that once you’ve tasted spare ribs and chocolate and champagne.” Freddie smiles over at him. “Honestly Brian, you need a distraction of some sort, whether it’s a new man in your life, or something else entirely.”

“Fred…” Brian sighs, eyes rolling slightly, “what I need to get this thing finished before it kills me off.”

“You might find the thing easier to finish if you’re not constantly thinking about it, darling.”

Brian watches the older man as he flits around the kitchen, toaster pinging and kettle whistling softly. The first whiffs of toast hit him and he feels a sudden urge to know what it tastes like, what it’s like dripping with butter or covered in strawberry jam. An urge to taste everything and just _know_ what life is supposed to taste like.

*

His lectures feel like they drag for an eternity, in reality it’s only 3 hours between the 2 of them, but his mind is drained. Completely and utterly devoid of any power at all to function with any form of life beyond simply dragging his feet to the first cafe he finds. He doesn’t even look up at the name of it as he pushes the door open slowly, doesn’t have the energy.

His body is shaking slightly as he stands in the middle of the shop, bag dangling from his crooked elbow, body too tired to even consider shouldering it once more before he’s had something to eat. His eyes flick up to the menu board, skimming quickly over the options, seeing only the words coffee and pastries. 

“You ok there?” He hears a soft voice and looks down slightly seeing a slightly younger boy smiling up at him with a slight hint of concern.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks. Just deciding what I want and wondering if I should heed my roommates advice of cutting down my caffeine intake.”

“Well, we do a fabulous Colombian decaf if that would appease him. Goes very well with the apple strudel or the cinnamon roll, all home made of course, by our in house pastry chef.”

Brian feels himself grinning at the enthusiasm of the boy, John, if he reads the name tag correctly and nods, “guess I’ll take the coffee and the strudel then please, to eat in. We’ll test the decaf option and see how that goes for today. Even if taste isn’t my strong point.”

“Ah,” John nods knowingly at him and then continues on, not making a big deal of it, which Brian is thankful for, “it’ll take longer than a day to get over caffeine withdrawals. I’d suggest doing it gradually. Maybe replace one cup of standard for a few days, and then 2 and so on.”

“You sound like you speak from experience.”

“Electronics degree, coffee was my best friend in the early days.” John smiles. “But I’m down to two cups a day from about 8, one in the morning and the other early afternoon. Leaves plenty of time for the caffeine to wear off in time for bed and sleep. That’ll be £4.50.”

Brian smiles wryly, and hands over his money. “I didn’t really sleep too much anyway even before this year, but it could help I guess.”

“Give it a try. Take a seat and I’ll bring it all over to you when it’s ready. John, by the way.”

“Thanks John, nice to meet you. I’m Brian.”

John grins and shoos him away softly. Brian feels a little more human, and silently thanks Freddie. Perhaps some human interaction beyond his best friend and course mates is exactly what he needs.

*

“I’d like to say it was delicious, but my taste buds have no idea remember.” Brian laughs later on as Freddie crashes onto the couch next to him. 

Freddie rolls his eyes at him and then smiles. “Please tell me you didn’t have coffee with it, not after our chat this morning.”

“I did, but it was decaf. I listened to you for a change.”

“Wonders will never cease.” Freddie’s smile turns into a shit eating grin. “Any cute boys?”

“The barista, John, was the only one I saw. He’s a kindred spirit of sorts but not really my type.”

“I hear there’s a hot blond that works there also, not seen him myself but Jim says he’s stunning. Might be right up your street. You’ll simply have to keep going back until you see him.”

“And who’s paying for this? Student loan is gone, my overdraft is a joke and we barely have enough to survive on as it is.”

“I’m sure John will let you use the wifi and feed you water.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous Fred.” Brian huffs in annoyance. He is absolutely not going to a coffee shop and drinking water.

“Well sit outside then. But please do something. You’re far more bearable today after some social interaction and taking your mind off, what was it again, interplanetary dust?”

“More bearable? Thanks Freddie, so kind of you.”

“You know I love you.” 

Brian purses his lips slightly but can’t stop the smile tugging them back again. “I love you too. Shame this soulmate crap doesn’t recognise platonic soulmates, I’d be able to taste that strudel otherwise.”

Freddie actually shines and leans over to wrap his arms around Brian’s shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “It’ll happen for you soon darling and then you can eat all the pastries your heart desires when you’re not busy eating something else.”

“And that’s the end of this conversation.” Brian blushes furiously at the insinuation and laughs. 

*

He does drink 1 less cup of coffee that day, and although it’s tough to tell if one simple day and 100mg less caffeine has made any difference to his nervous system he does feel marginally better when he wakes up the next day. He makes a serious mental note to try out John’s advice in earnest. Starting with today, well, yesterday, but that was a pre-trial run or something along those lines. 

“Brian!” Freddie yells as soon as he sets foot through the front door, Jim in tow. 

“No need to yell Fred, I’m right here.” Brian says as he looks up from where his books are spread across the kitchen table and quirks an eyebrow. Freddie is usually fairly animated but he can see from the look on his face that this is something more. “Hey Jim.” He adds with a nod and smile.

“You have to go back to that coffee shop today. He’s absolutely perfect for you, totally your type and stunning.”

“Slow down Fred and breathe.” Jim laughs. “You may need to give him some more info on what exactly you’re talking about, even I’m struggling and I was with you.”

“Yes, yes love, sorry.” Freddie slides into the seat opposite Brian and pushes a paper bag towards him quickly. “Anyway, coffee shop. Pastries are to die for, I grabbed you a cinnamon bun, figured you’d be working, _again_ and wouldn’t have eaten. But that’s not the thing. The thing is, the other guy Jim said he saw? He’s wow, he’s got these amazing blue eyes that just swallow you and then there’s the face that goes with them and the shaggy blond hair.”

“I’m starting to feel a little inadequate here.” Jim says with a knowing smile.

“Oh shush, you know you’re the one for me. This guy might be the one for our Brian here.” 

Brian watches in amusement as Freddie tangles his fingers together with Jim’s and smiles softly. It hurts a little to see the look of pure adoration on Freddie’s face, but it’s his problem and not Freddie’s in the end, so he looks away, giving them a little space as he delves into the bag for the bun.

It smells delicious, but that only serves to make him feel worse, so he breaks a tiny piece off the sticky pastry and rolls the bag closed once more, sealing the smell off. 

“What was his name?” He asks quietly.

“I can’t reme-”

“Roger.” Jim smiles, cutting Freddie off. Trust Jim to get the important information.

“Roger.” Brian repeats quietly, letting it roll on his tongue. “Thanks guys. I need to get some more work done though, but if I get a chance I might pop in later.” 

“Brian May, you are the most frustrating thing ever, ‘I might pop in later’. Fucking hell, this guy is gorgeous. Even if he’s not the one for you, he looks like he’d be a good shag. Now that really would be a great distraction for you.”

Brian rolls his eyes at Freddie and chews on the end of his pen as he buries his head back in to his books, studiously ignoring them both and their giggles. 

*

He’s up to his neck in research and lectures and he doesn’t get chance to go back until later the next week. He’s still stuck to his one cup less a day of full caffeine coffee and he’s considering taking another one out, but his sleep the last few days has been even more atrocious than normal and he’s felt the walking dead at times. The work is piling up from his professors and he’s picked possibly the most intricate subject that he could. 

He feels in dire need of caffeine injected straight into his bloodstream but he also knows that that won’t help his situation at all, so he compromises.

“Can I get a pot of Earl Grey tea please?” He asks softly.

“Sure. No coffee today Brian?” John says as he rings up the order. “£2.50 please.”

“Compromising. I need the caffeine but still following your advice, or trying at least.”

“All you can do is try. The thesis still dragging you under?”

“You have no idea.” Brian snorts, handing over his money.

“Good luck. Roger will bring your tea over.”

Brian’s concentration picks up a notch at the name and he suppresses a curious smile as best he can as he nods at John. “Thanks.”

He picks the nook in the corner of the shop, the soft armchair welcoming him with open arms and hugging him in. It takes him all of 30 seconds before the table is covered with his work, books spread out and open, and notepads flipped over to reveal his scratchy handwriting. He runs a hand over his face and grimaces.

3 weeks. 3 weeks before it’s in and finished and he can enjoy life again without needing to spend 18 hours a day looking things up and working things out. 3 whole weeks. He can absolutely do this. 

“Earl Grey?”

Brian hears a slightly high pitched yet raspy voice, like someone’s smoked far too many cigarettes and looks up into the bluest eyes he’s ever seen. He stares for what feels like forever, nodding stupidly, until he remembers to speak and stammers out a quiet ‘yes thanks’ to the man.

Freddie is 100% correct. The man is stunning, Brian would have to go as far as saying breathtaking as he’s still struggling slightly to not only breathe normally but also comprehend the sheer magnitude of Roger.

It takes him a while to realise that he’s staring at the spot that Roger has now vacated and he turns back to his books blushing slightly for absolutely no reason. He misses the soft giggle that John emits from behind the counter and he absolutely does not see Roger turn back to glance at him before he disappears back into the kitchen. 

He picks his pen up but after a few minutes of drawing absent minded doodles on the edge of his notepad he gives up. All he can think of is the blue eyes and blond hair, the soft cheekbones and ever so slightly lopsided smile that were glancing down at him not even 5 minutes ago.

He’s entranced by the ethereal beauty that was now nowhere to be seen. He feels a little shaken if he’s honest, not that he will ever admit that to anybody. Not even Freddie.

He reaches out for the pot and stirs it slowly, allowing the leaves to spin and churn, watching them carelessly, eyes not entirely focused on the task. He pours out a cup and adds the smallest of dashes of milk to it, making it the way his parents always do when he visits. 

The smell hits him first, the deep citrus fragrance invading his senses as he cradles the cup in his hands, blowing on it to cool it slightly. 

He almost drops the cup when the liquid hits his tongue. There’s something there, something that’s odd, something that he can’t quite put into words. It’s….. 

Taste.


End file.
